Tomorrow it will be time
with the two mangoes in the fruit bowl
to make the ultimate sacrifice.
Some say they were born to the task
and perhaps so, but the tree
from which they were torn said
it was not yet their time, that she
would have released them in due course
but our impatience demanded otherwise.
I will take my two knives, the larger
to pare away to almost halve
the smaller to trim around the pit,
draw a lattice in the fruit
from which to slice small cubes.
Then it is onto parchment papered
trays and into the freezer, only to
reappear in days to make a morning complete.